The Final Miracle

Christopher knew that he was meant to become a lawyer. Lawyers protected people and helped them solve problems that were too big for them to solve by themselves, especially people like him and his family: poor people without position or power. All they had to protect them against injustice and inequality was the law and that meant lawyers and that's what Christopher was meant to be.

Until that letter arrived, he had almost made it. He had studied hard in school, got a scholarship to college and then another one to law school. But then came the letter from the financial aid director.

“We regret to inform you…”

The law school was cutting back on financial aid, it said. It was nothing personal of course. “Your work here has been excellent but economic realities require us to reduce your aid package by $20,000.” To register for senior year he would have to pay $20,000 towards his own tuition and he simply didn’t have it. Even if everyone in his family and all of his friends gave him every penny they had, it wouldn’t come close to $20,000. He had a summer job and he saved every penny but he had to face the facts. Law school was over. He would never become a lawyer.

The day after the letter arrived, Christopher was serving the lunch rush at the Springfield Café. That’s when he saw her. In the middle of the dining room, all by herself. Short blonde hair, a little more gray now. Five foot nothing. Baggy sweatshirt. Long printed skirt. Daisies and sunflowers. His old first grade teacher from Morris Street School, Miss Miller. He rushed over to her table.

“Well, hello Christopher. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“It’s only for the summer, I’m a law student.” He corrected himself. “I mean I was a law student. I mean ....” A tear started to form in his left eye..

“Oh, come now. Sit down and tell me all about it. The owner of this restaurant is one of my former students. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Christopher sat down and told Miss Miller the whole story: law school, the scholarship, the letter, everything. “I don’t know what to do, it’s all just . . .”

“Well, the first thing you’re going to do is bring me a chef’s salad. Italian dressing on the side. Then, tomorrow you’ll come to the school and we’ll talk more.” She reached into her huge purse and pulled out a little black Moleskin notebook.

“I remember than notebook,” said Christopher. “When I was in first grade you always kept it in the middle drawer of your desk.”

“You have a good memory.” She made a note in the book. “Ten o’clock tomorrow. Now, what about my lunch?”

At Morris Street School he could still remember the way to Miss Miller’s classroom. He looked around the room until he found his old desk. Number one in the third row. Right up front, closest to the teacher's desk. He pulled the chair back and sat down but he couldn't fit his knees under the desk anymore. That made him smile.

“Life can be funny you know. Sometimes everything around us seems to have changed, but it’s really we who have changed.”

He turned his head to see her walking through the door. A bundle of construction paper in one hand and her “I Touch the Future. I Teach” coffee mug in the other. She put them on her desk and sat down next to Christopher.

“I remember career day the year you sat in that desk the first time. You told the class that lawyers make the world a better and fairer place for everyone and that’s what you wanted to do.”

“I remember,” he whispered sadly.

“But now the world itself seems very unfair, doesn't it?”

Christopher could only nod.

“I'm not surprised that you remembered your old desk. But do you remember any of the other children?” Miss Miller pointed to the desk right behind Christopher. “Mary Foster sat right there. She's in medical school now. Training to become a surgeon. That’s how she will make the world a better place.”

“Long before you got here there was a boy who sat back there.” She pointed to a desk at the very back of the room. “He was too shy to sit up front. He's a science professor at the University now.”

“And this very desk,” she touched the one where she sat. “The first year I taught here, this desk belonged to another smart boy named Roger Dylan.”

“Doctor Dylan?” Christopher smiled.

“Yes. The principal of this school. He sat at this desk and I taught him numbers and letters and colors. Just like I taught you.”

“You taught us all a lot more than that,” said Christopher.

“People mainly teach themselves,” said Miss Miller. “Even little people like the ones who sit at desks that are too small for you to put your knees under.”

“Do you know why so many people from this classroom have done wonderful things? Builders, parents, people that own stores and businesses, people that fix things. Do you know how they went from this small classroom to such great achievements?” Christopher didn't know and he didn't really feel like answering questions like that. After all, he wouldn’t have any great achievements. Not any more.

“I'll tell you how,” said Miss Miller. “Every one of my children deserved a little miracle and they all got on one.”

“Mary didn't do very well on the medical school admission test. She never was a good test-taker.” Miss Miller smiled when she thought back to the little girl who sat behind Christopher so long ago. “When she came to see me, I told her to apply to medical school anyway. The school scheduled her for an interview and she convinced the professors that she wanted to be a doctor for all the right reasons, just like you want to be a lawyer for all the right reasons. Those professors overlooked her test scores and she’s been doing just fine ever since. She’ll be graduating next year and I’m sure that she will help a lot of people after that.”

“Timmy, the shy boy who became a professor? He always loved scientific knowledge and he wanted to help other people understand the universe. But speaking to a lecture hall full of students seemed like more than he could do. I told him that it might have been more than he could do when he was a child in first grade but adults learn how to overcome their difficulties. Now he opens people's minds to the secrets of the universe every single day.”

“And Roger, Doctor Dylan? As a kid he was always so bossy. No one would play with him or listen to anything he had to say. When he came to this building for his first teaching job we had a long talk right here in these chairs, and now he is doing wonderful things.”

“I helped them all because they deserved it. And none of them deserved my help more than you do.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Miss Miller. But do you keep an extra $20,000 dollars in that Little Black Book of yours?”

“No. Not exactly.” There was a twinkle in he eyes. “But I know that problems have a way of working out. Now, I have to get busy. My new students will be here soon and I have bulletin boards to decorate.” She patted his hand. “I wonder who will sit in this chair next. What great surprise will that child have for the world?” She winked her eye and headed for the construction paper.

When Christopher got back to his apartment, there was a letter from the dean of the law school. “Dear Christopher, I just learned about the action of the financial aid office.” Christopher could hardly believe what he was reading. The dean had reversed that decision. “Our profession must not lose a student with your talent and passion. I am increasing your aid package by $20,000. Please return to the law school immediately to finalize arrangements for your senior year.”

He called Miss Miller with the good news and left her a voice message before taking the next train back to law school.

Christopher’s final year of law school flew past. He graduated in the spring and passed the bar exam. Finally, after a lifetime of work and worry he was really a lawyer. He knew he had to tell Miss Miller, so one crisp autumn day he took the train back to Springfield and walked to Morris Street School late in the afternoon, after the children had gone home. Miss Miller wasn’t in her room and after waiting a while he decided to write her a note. He looked in the center drawer of her desk for a piece of paper but the only thing there was the little black notebook. He opened it and turned the pages.

Each page had a child’s name at the top. There were several different handwritings. The first page in Miss Miller’s handwriting was about a boy named Sam. “Sam got hit by a car but he will soon walk again,” it said.

Christopher flipped a few pages ahead. “Roger will become a wonderful teacher, someday he may run this whole school.”

“Timmy will help people understand the universe.”

“Mary can fix hurts and sickness, she just can’t take tests.” In between these names were many others. Joey played baseball and Emal built houses and Nancy was a grandmother and Jeffrey owned a store. And at the back of the book there was . . .

“What are you doing reading my Little Black Book?” Miss Miller was standing at the door “This book is private.” She took it from Christopher’s hands.

“But Miss Miller. Every one of these pages has a child’s name. Mary the medical student. Timmy the professor. Doctor Dylan. And . . . others.” He choked up a little. “What does it mean?”

“Well, I suppose you do deserve an answer.” She looked around at the tiny desks. “That notebook has belonged to this classroom for a long, long, time. The early pages were written by another teacher. Then by someone else. Then by me. I found the Little Black Book when I started teaching here forty years ago. It was the only thing that the previous teacher had left behind - except for this note.” She unfolded an old sheet of paper from the inside pocket of the Moleskin notebook. “‘Children need miracles to become what they are meant to be. Write them down. Believe. Make them happen.’ At first, I didn’t know what to think but then Sammy Foster walked into this room after that terrible accident.” She put the note back and returned the notebook to its drawer. “After that, whenever I wrote down my belief about a child’s potential the Little Black Book turned that belief into reality. Every page held a new miracle. Every child became what they were meant to be.” She paused for a moment. “Right up until today. Did you find the page with your name?”

“Yes,” said Christopher. “‘Christopher makes the world a better and fairer place.’” He had memorized it.

“I wrote those words the day we spoke at the restaurant. You thought I was recording our appointment but I was really touching your future. That’s what teachers do.”

“Just like on the mug,” he smiled.

“Just like on the mug.” She reached up and gave him a hug. “You’d better get going, Counselor. The world is waiting for you.”

Christopher didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded and headed for the door.

She called after him. “There are no more pages in the book. I saved the final miracle for you. Strive mightily to deserve it.”

I promised her that I would. And for the last fifty years, that’s exactly what I have done.